Fire and Ice
by Vader's Fallen Angel
Summary: Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice.


_Some say the world will end in fire_

_Some say in ice_

_From what I've tasted of desire_

_I hold with those who favor fire_

_But if it had to perish twice_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction ice_

_Is also great_

_And would suffice_

_-Robert Frost_

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Anakin always wanted things. He wanted the be free, wanted to be recognized, wanted to see the stars, wanted power, wanted to make sure no one could ever hurt him or those he loved ever again...

He saw the quiet authority Qui-Gon wielded when they first met, heard the stories of the great Jedi warriors growing up, and thought that maybe if he became a Jedi he could finally get what he wanted. He very quickly learned of his mistake. Desire, particularly for power, was _not_ something encouraged by the Jedi.

The boy slouched back in his seat sulkily, having already forgotten his master's lectures about the _proper _way to behave when in the presence of the Supreme Chancellor. The Chancellor hadn't stood on propriety for the last four years so by the end of the first year Anakin began to tune out anything having to do with decorum when in his presence. At thirteen the padwan was already filtering his master's words anyway. Besides the Chancellor always took his side.

"Would you like to hear another story Anakin?" came the kindly, grandfather-like voice.

"Oh yes please," Anakin looked up quickly, "sir," he added after a moment. The eager desert slave-turned-Jedi padwan sat up. The Chancellor always told the best stories. Chancellor Papatine smiled and leaned back, sipping at his Nubian tea and looking away as if he was riffling through his mental file to find just the right story. Anakin waited patiently. He was not disappointed.

The tale was an epic one of a boy whose family was killed and who in response set out to avenge them. It was masterfully told and left the boy sitting on the edge of his seat. His heart pounded, his hands clenched, and his eyes came alive, twice flashing to amber, something he didn't notice but the man across from him did. It felt like there was fire burning in his veins and he was such a mass of coiled energy he felt as if he would burn up if he didn't leap from his chair right now and… do… something! What he wasn't sure, but he needed to, he needed to… Suddenly he realized that the Chancellor had stopped talking.

"That's it? The story's over? But I still feel, I still need to–" he broke off, not sure how to put his emotions into words.

"Well I'm certainly pleased you're engaged my boy. And very glad to know I haven't lost my touch," the elder replied, sounding amused, "but I'm afraid I really don't have anything more to add."

"Still," Anakin complained, looking out a window, hands clenched tightly on the armrests so that his knuckles turned white, "it should _feel_ over."

Palaptine looked over the rim of his cup at the boy tense and trembling like a tightly strung wire, full of fire that needed to be cooled but that the Jedi would only bank while he fanned until it was unleashed in an almighty wave of destruction. All the boy would require was to want something enough that it became a need, and need that something enough that it became an obsession that he brooded over and burned for until he ceased to care about the means so long as he could claim what he desired at the end. Seeing the effect of today's tale Sideous mentally added vengeful to Anakin's list of virtues. There were so many beautiful things one could do with a force-strong that thought only with his heart. And so many possibilities having to do with revenge. But it was not strong _enough_ he concluded mournfully. Desire for revenge might help Anakin along his path to darkness, but another trigger would be necessary. The benevolent mentor smiled indulgently at the young Sith-to-be and set down his tea.

"Ah well, you know what they say, the best stories never truly end," he smiled again and stood. "Now I'm afraid our time is up. Your master is no doubt on his way here to rescue you from the corrupting influences of an evil politician." Anakin snorted good-naturedly and stood, making his way toward the door.

"Yeah. My master hates politics, politicians, and anything related to either of them." Palaptine chuckled.

"Oh I doubt he _hates_ us child. Distrusts us no doubt and though the two often coexist, hatred is a different breed. I should know."

Palpatine put his hand on Anakin's shoulder. It was as cold as ice.


End file.
